Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from the UAE and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Sad Lovers and Giants to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ohio Players,
The Fortunes,
The Trojans,
Brass Construction,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bizarre Inc.,
Davy DMX,
Jacques Brel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Eric B and Rakim,
Little Man,
Qualms,
The Stooges,
The Alarm Clocks,
Tubeway Army,
The Beau Brummels,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Cybotron,
Lou Christie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marmalade,
The Index,
Moebius,
Crooked Eye,
The Young Rascals,
The Birthday Party,
Ice-T,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Shoche,
Gong,
Bootsy Collins,
Eli Mardock,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Mr. Review,
Make Up,
Mary Jane Girls,
H. Thieme,
Minutemen,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ralphi Rosario,
L. Decosne,
Kayak,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Starr,
Sex Pistols,
Eric Dolphy,
Rapeman,
Electric Prunes,
Wasted Youth,
The Fall,
Brand Nubian,
Quantec,
UT,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.